


He Never Did Listen

by viciouswishes



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-16
Updated: 2006-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 10:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13029387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciouswishes/pseuds/viciouswishes
Summary: Setting: Post-"Damage"Prompt: Angel/Xander. Post-Chosen, pre-Not Fade Away. Something not too dark, but schmangst is fine =) Unexpected sex would be nice.Summary: Angel barely recognizes Xander.





	He Never Did Listen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aimeelicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeelicious/gifts).



Angel barely recognizes Xander. He remembers a boy who hated him, who would've staked him had Angel not been faster and stronger. Now stands a man who's here to make sure that Angel doesn't do anything evil. 

It's a little late. He gave them their Slayer and there's nothing more he has to give. 

But Xander carries a bottle of tequila he bought at the border. They take shots and drink for the dead and the lost. Angel tastes the remains of their shattered souls across his tongue. 

Xander stands by the window in Angel's penthouse for a long time. Angel's unsure why he brought him up here. But somehow, they both seem too old to care. 

"I should punch you," Xander says. 

"You couldn't take me. No matter how much I've drunk." And then instead of baring their teeth at each other and growling, Angel finds himself kissing Xander. Xander almost tastes like Slayer because he lives like one but there's a bitterness running through him. 

It bleeds all over the sheets as Angel pushes him down on the bed, stripping Xander of his pants. Xander groans as Angel's hand touches his cock. Angel had no patience for soft foreplay and Xander's not the little boy Angel remembers from Sunnydale. 

Xander's skin is the potholed-filled roads around the cemeteries Angel used to haunt. Scars connecting schools and houses to the times Buffy told them yes, yes, no, no. Xander's mouth is open and panting, hot breath against Angel's shoulder. Groaning when Angel moves back from Xander to finish removing the rest of their clothing. His fingers pinch Xander's nipples. 

Angel's hard, his body needy and wanting. But his mind wondering through the dips and valleys of lies he's heard, the ones he's made, and finally, the ones that have come through. His actions are automatic. He opens the drawer for lubricant. Angel won't hurt the boy, the man, underneath him. 

Xander presses hard kisses against Angel's stomach. He rubs against Angel's cock, going lower, licking the tip, working under the shaft. When Xander moans against him, Angel can't help but think that he's watched too much porn on the plains of Africa. And maybe, Xander showed up as some cheesy, but clandestine, PTB plotline. Angel almost hears Wesley's voice in his head, echoing about destiny. 

Destiny is Xander's sweet mouth wrapped around Angel's cock. Is Angel's hip bucking, is Xander's hand reaching down to play with Angel's balls. Is Angel saying, "Stop" when he's close to coming because he wants to orgasm buried inside Xander, not wadding in the kiddie pool. 

Angel remembers that he left the lube somewhere. He pushes Xander down on his stomach because there are just some things that he doesn't want to see played out in Xander's eyes. Not pain or lust. 

Xander moans when Angel's fingers press inside of him. He's tight, but Angel pushes in another finger instead of whispering sweet lover's words. Xander tastes of sand and brine, not of honey kisses and virgin whites. Blood won't show on Angel's dark blue sheets. 

CEOs don't need patience and Angel lost a lot of his when his soul was ripped in and out of him like a marionette. He feels off-balanced as his hand jerks at his own cock, body responding to the naked flesh spread out before him. 

When Angel plunges into Xander, there are stars in the backs of his eyes. He always found comfort in his vices and likes that he can smell the alcohol coming off Xander's skin. Two bob for the warmth of a whore's bosom and all the ale he could manage. 

Xander holds his breath and bites his tongue. They have nothing to say to one another. They're both surprised that they have this. Xander exhales when Angel thrust roughly into him. 

Angel always fucks like there's no tomorrow. Because maybe the world will end and he'll watch it burn from his penthouse view. Second chances are rare and any more are probably tricks by bored Powers. 

Xander's sedated after coming, pliable and lazy. This would be the moment when Angel leans down and drinks from him, when Xander's cock would harden again at Angel's fangs and he'd go lust first into his death. Sex and killing are one in the same. Angel doesn't know if it was Darla or his childhood priest who beat that lesson into him. He never did listen. 

Angel's orgasm overtakes him as he thinks of Xander's blood in his mouth. Though it might not be Xander's and be Buffy's instead. 

Angel rolls off Xander and onto his back. He longs for the phantom cigarette between his fingers, not because the sex was that great, but because he'd have something else to focus on. The burn of the tequila has worn off. Instead Angel watches the stars and says, "Get out."


End file.
